The Shire
by Thispiper
Summary: While apparating under the effect of a dementor, Newt finds himself in a strange place.


**House: Ravenclaw**

 **Category: Bonus**

 **Prompts: Lord of the Rings; Newt Scamander; "You're Going to be trouble, aren't you?"**

 **WC: 1552**

* * *

Newt had met Dementors before, but not like this. These ones were mad. Very mad. And, as is the way with Dementors, the small wispy patronus he had protecting him seemed to make them all the more determined to get to him.

"Easy now," he muttered. He glanced around to make sure all the villagers were safe before slowly dimming his patronus. Immediately as the spell ended, he wordlessly flicked his wand, trapping the Dementors in a spell, and took them into his briefcase. Emerging back out of the case, Newt found himself face to face with the Mayor.

"Thank you, Mr. Scamander. We all owe you a great debt, I don't know now much longer we could have endured," the Mayor said.

"You're very welcome, it was the least I could do to help," Newt replied glancing around.

"Well, if you ever need anything in return, just tell us. I'm sure everyone would be more than happy to assist you," the Mayor said.

"Thank you. I must be going now, I'm heading to Ireland to investigate some reports of hippogriffs nesting in the Ring of Kerry." And after shaking the mayors hand, Newt was off.

Apparating away, Newt could still feel the lingering effects of the Dementors. He could almost sense their aura radiating from his case. ' _I hope the other creatures are alright_ ,' he thought.

"Oi, you leave my cabbages alone. You're a big one, aren't you, probably nearly four inches!"

Newt turned cautiously around to look at the speaker, afraid that he might have scared him. But the tiny gardener didn't seem to have noticed and simply continued pulling slugs off his vegetables and putting them in a pail.

"I ought to feed you lot to the hogs for trying to eat my vegetables." The gardener stood up grabbing the pail. "Oh hello," he said to Newt, "I didn't see you there."

"That's alright, I probably shouldn't have been standing here anyway," Newt said, glancing around for anyone who might be watching.

"Don't worry about it. We Shirefolk like to think of ourselves as quite welcoming." A silence stretched between the two, bordering on uncomfortable. "Have you got a garden, master… Oh, I don't know your name." The gardener seemed quite distressed about that for a few seconds, as if trying to find who Newt was from his memory. "Well, I'm Samwise Gamgee, but most folk just call me Sam." Sam stepped up to the gate and stretched out his hand to shake Newt's.

"Newt Scamander, and no I haven't got a garden," Newt said, reaching down and shaking Sam's hand. "I have got quite a lot of creatures, though, including one that eats slugs, if you'd like help with your problem."

"Oh, yes please. Although I don't suppose you have it with you." Sam seemed quite disappointed by his last statement.

"Do you believe in magic?"

"Magic? I know a thing or two about that. Once saw elf magic with my own eyes, wasn't too keen on it though. I'd rather the simple stuff like Gandalf's fireworks," Sam said, a wave a nostalgia filling his eyes before receding as quickly as it had come.

Newt smiled, stepped into the garden, and set down his case. Opening it, he looked at Sam. "Follow me," he said, and climbed down into the case. Looking around his workshop, Newt soon found a pair of gardening gloves.

"Well, master Newt, I think you've happened upon a type of magic I've not seen before," Sam said, looking around in awe.

"Feel free to look anywhere you like. The animals are all friendly, as long as you don't disturb them," Newt said, still looking around his workshop. "Oh! Except through the third entrance to the right, you might not want to go there."

"Why, what's in there?" Sam asked, following Newt through several rooms.

"Dementors. They feed off happiness, making you relive your worst memory," Newt said. He watched Sam's eyes widened for a moment before he shuddered.

"Well then, master Newt, I suppose I'll not go in there," Sam replied.

Newt smiled and continued walking through the case to an area that looked much like a garden. Entering the room, he lifted a few leaves before reaching down and picking up…

"A hedgehog?" Sam asked, confused.

"A Knarl, actually, very similar, though. This little fellow has an immense liking for slugs," Newt said, checking over the animal. "Don't leave them out for him, though; Knarl's don't like that, they'll get mad and destroy your garden."

Newt headed back to the entrance of the case, hardly noticing the look of horror on Sam's face at the thought of his garden being destroyed. Newt climbed out of the case, set the Knarl down at the edge of the garden, and watched as it got to work eating slugs. He turned as Sam came out of the case.

"It's a bit hard to find your way around in there," Sam said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Newt began, "I didn't mean to leave you." He turned back to the garden, and didn't see the Knarl. Looking around, he quickly spotted it trying to squeeze out of the fence. He walked over to it, picked it up, and put it back in the garden.

"Why don't I fetch us a cup of lemonade?" Sam offered. Not waiting for an answer, he stood up and disappeared inside the round door.

Newt sat down on a bench and sighed. He was quite comfortable here, wherever here was. Chancing a glance away from the Knarl, Newt took a good look around. The garden was near the top of a hill, many other houses were on the road, all just as small and circular as Sam's. It was peaceful here, Newt decided.

"Here it is," San said, breaking Newt out of his thoughts. He handed Newt a cup and filled it. "I made it just this morning, I hope it's not too sour."

Newt took a sip, and smiled. "It's just right, thank you," he said.

"Oh, no need to thank me, your Knarl's gettin' rid of my slugs."

Newt nodded and turned to look at the Knarl. Again, it was trying to escape. "You're going to be trouble, aren't you?" He said, standing up again and placing the Knarl back in the garden, this time on the side away from the gate.

He stood up again, careful not to spill his lemonade. He glanced over the shire again. "What kind of tree is that?" he asked, nodding towards a young sapling he could just see in the distance.

Sam stood and turned to where he was looking. "That's a golden Mallorn tree, the only one west of the Misty Mountains, I reckon," he said. "The Lady Galadriel gave it to me near the beginning of master Frodo and my quest."

"It's beautiful," Newt almost whispered.

"Most beautiful tree in the shire," Sam agreed.

Silence enveloped the two again as their minds wandered. Sam's over many hills and mountains, and Newt… who knew how far away England was. It was a calm and peaceful silence.

"Ahhhh!"

The high screech jerked both Newt and Sam back to where the were standing, and the first thing Newt looked for, was his Knarl.

"It's gone, it must've got under the fence," Sam said.

Newt nodded in agreement. "The scream came from that way, we should start there," he said. He grabbed his case, setting the lemonade on the bench, and quickly exited the gate.

The new friends hurried down the road, until they came into sight of another house like Sam's.

"The Proudfoot house, this won't be pleasant," Sam said, shaking his head.

Newt continued up to the gate, and pulled out his wand. "Stupify," he said, hitting the Knarl squarely. "I'm very sorry, ma'am," he said, stepping through the gate and picking up the stunned Knarl. "I'm afraid he got loose."

"He nearly destroyed my garden, that's what he did," Mrs. Proudfoot said. She crouched over her cabbages, muttering something about 'big folk' and 'trouble'.

Newt opened his mouth to apologize again, but felt a tug on his sleeve. Sam motioned for him to follow, so he did.

"Best to leave while she's still occupied. By tonight that Knarl of yours will have grown at least three sizes, if not ten," Sam said.

"Well, I probably shouldn't be here when that happens," Newt said. "I think that, at this point, he's been more trouble than help."

"Oh, not at all. At least _my_ garden's down some slugs," Sam replied.

"I'm glad, but I probably ought to be going now, just as soon as I've got him back in his garden," Newt said. He set down the case on the garden path again, and quickly disappeared down into it and back up again.

"Well, I suppose that's that then," Sam said. "If you're ever in the Shire again, you're welcome to come over. Maybe I'll take you to see the Mallorn tree up close."

"I'll try to make my way back sometime," Newt promised. "I like it here, it's calm."

"Just remember the name Samwise Gamgee, almost anyone will be able to direct you here."

"Thank you, Sam," Newt said, he grabbed his case and walked back onto the street before apparating away with a pop.


End file.
